Then Came The Last Days of May
by lioneatingdragon
Summary: They all had their different reasons to join the Order, some more noble than others, and some just downright disturbing, but their goal was the same: to protect their loved ones at all costs. Therefore it was to nobody's surprise that they all stood in front of him, faces set with determination, come the last days of May. Rated M for violence and language.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the characters or Harry Potter, unfortunately, nor do I take credit for the absolute blessing that is Elvis. That is all.

* * *

 _Chapter One:_

 _Mudbloods and Hot Chocolate_

Lily Evans didn't have a smidgen of a clue why on earth she decided to agree to it, but if she had to guess she would say it was probably because she was very curious about what he had to say. Definitely not because she had any intention of forgiving the guy, because she absolutely _loathed_ him. She was simply dying to know what could've possessed someone to do such a thing.

In fact, she was contemplating turning back around and heading right back home, into the safe haven that was her room, where she could curl up on her bed and listen to every single one of her Elvis vinyls one by one, the sound of his voice lulling her into a relaxed stupor.

The mere thought of that was so tempting, that Lily stopped as soon as the gravel beneath her feet was replaced by grass. _I could still do it,_ Lily reasoned, glancing over her shoulder at the rows of houses behind her. _It's not too late! Just because I've reached the hill already doesn't mean-_

But that was when it hit her that _she was at the hill already._ She turned to gaze up at the hill, a place she frequented as a child, her heart thumping loudly. Memories of all the times Petunia and she played on this hill crept up on her, and she had the sudden urge to cry.

It also happened to be the very place where she used to sit and talk for hours with a certain black-haired Slytherin boy.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Lily started to ascend the hill. There was no turning back, not now. Not when she so desperately needed to know _why_.

About halfway up the hill, a silhouette of a boy started coming into view, his back turned towards Lily. He appeared to be very entranced by the sunset, because he didn't seem to hear Lily even when she was standing right behind him.

"Severus." She acknowledged the boy curtly, and sat down next to him without as much as sparing a glance in his direction.

"Lily!" Exclaimed the boy, Severus Snape excitedly, moving as if to fling his arms around the tense female next to him, but then seemed to remember something, and suddenly grew sombre, placing his hands back in his lap. "I'm glad you came."

"Mmm," was all he got in reply.

A long silence befell them, and Lily instantly found herself regretting her decision to go there. She thought that maybe Snape would at least _try_ to apologise to her in some way, some better way than he tried to last time, when he threatened to sleep outside the portrait hole to the Gryffindor Tower at Hogwarts last year, right after the 'incident'. She thought that he might've at least planned some sort of speech that would include him begging for her to forgive him, or lost sleep thinking about _how on earth_ a friendship like theirs had managed to end over something like this. Lily thought that the least she deserved after what he had done was any sign of remorse or sorrow, but no; here he was, staring at the sunset, looking absolutely peaceful and content.

Lily almost managed to stop the tears from spilling out onto her cheeks.

Wiping at her eyes furiously, Lily shot up from the grass and choked out "This was a mistake. I'm going."

Panicking, Severus jumped up onto his feet, just managing to latch onto Lily's wrist, as she was already descending the hill, desperate to get away from him.

"Lily, wait!"

"What, Snape?!" Lily rounded on him, enraged, her eyes boring into his angrily, seemingly trying to incinerate him, or something of the like. Snape flinched at being addressed by his last name, by Lily no less. If there was anything in the world he desperately hadn't wanted to do, it was definitely to aggravate Lily to the point where she would stop calling him 'Severus'. In the end, she was the only person who called him by his first name. "What the _hell_ do you want from me?! What could you possibly have to say that would make this any better?!"

Snape just stared at her, too stunned for words by her outburst, his lips forming words but never making a sound.

"That's what I thought," Lily scoffed, wrenching her arm out of Snape's grasp and wiping her cheeks aggressively with the palms of her hands, ashamed that she would cry because of Snape, someone who most definitely did not deserve her tears. "It's a good thing I wasn't going to forgive you even if you apologised, so at least nothing was lost."

Severus felt a sharp sting because of her words, but that was quickly replaced by rage.

"Oh, so that's it?" Snape spat, his face twisting into a chilling sneer, all previous regret wiped clean. "You come here, demanding apologies, while not planning to even think about accepting them?! Well that's fucking rich-"

"SHUT _UP_ , SNAPE!" Lily yelled, and Snape flinched once more, recoiling slightly. The murderous look in her eye informing him that even though she didn't hear him say it, she knew that he was about to do it again. "Don't you think you've done enough?!" Lily shouted, incredulously. "I can't believe you were comparing _not accepting an apology_ to _calling someone a 'mudblood'!_ And not just anyone, your supposed best friend!" Her voice cracked on the last two words, and tears ran down her face once more.

"Lil-" Snape tried, but even he knew that the damage was done. If he hadn't attempted to call her a mudblood once more, then there might have been a chance at reconciliation, maybe not straight away, but it might have been a possibility in the near future. The fact that he _had_ tried to call her a mudblood, showed them both that no matter what he said, he really didn't regret calling her that. The damage was done.

"Goodbye Severus." And with that Lily turned and started to descend the hill as fast as her legs could take her, and she didn't stop once she reached the bottom. She didn't stop once she rounded the corner either. She didn't stop until she was absolutely sure she couldn't see even a speck of that hill, and collapsed onto something that felt hard and very unpleasant to lean on.

Frowning, Lily spun around to check what the contraption was, to find herself staring at the park she used to play in as a kid. The very park in which she met Severus Snape, all those years ago.

Lily's stomach lurched, and she had a horrifying thought that if she did not get out of there this instant, she would find herself dearly regretting eating anything that day.

* * *

Marlene McKinnon was not someone who handled boredom very well. She was extremely energetic and went absolutely nuts when she had to sit in one place for over 5 minutes. It was a well-known fact that it was virtually impossible to get a hold of her during the summer holidays, as she was running all over the place, doing everything and anything she could think of.

Therefore you can imagine Marlene's surprise when she found Lily Evans sitting on her doorstep, cradling her head in her lap and rocking backwards and forwards.

"Lils, what are you doing here?" Marlene asked gently, dropping her bag onto the ground next to her. Lily instantly raised her head at the sound of Marlene's voice. She had clearly been crying a lot. Her eyes were puffy, her make-up smudged all the way down her cheeks and when she spoke, she hiccuped slightly.

"I knocked on your door." Lily sniffed quietly, wiping at her eyes with her sleeves, a pointless action, because new tears rolled down her face as soon as she was done. "You weren't home though."

"Yeah, I had a Quidditch date with the guys, I thought that I told you?" Marlene asked uncertainly, sincerely hoping that she had not forgotten to mention that.

"Oh, right," Lily mumbled sullenly, hanging her head. "I forgot."

"Lily, what happened?" Marlene questioned, sitting down next to the distressed redhead, although she supposed she already had a sound idea of what had happened.

"Snape." Lily choked out weakly.

Rage instantly filled Marlene. Because calling someone who was presumably his best friend a 'mudblood' clearly wasn't enough, Snape had done _another_ thing to hurt her friend. It made no difference if he felt guilt because of it or not. Because Snape wasn't the one who heard Lily cry herself to sleep every night for _weeks_ after what he had done. Snape wasn't the one who had done everything in his power to restrain himself from beating the crap out of the person responsible, on _Lily's_ request. Marlene was. And therefore, that rotten Death Eater was _dead_.

"That bastard!" Marlene exclaimed, clenching her fists. "What did that slimy git do now?!"

Marlene thought she saw a tiny smile tug at Lily's lips, but she couldn't be certain because it was gone a second later.

"He… he called me a mudblood again." Marlene's eyebrows shot up, and there must have been something on her face that suggested she was about to shout more insults, because Lily was very quick to correct herself, not even taking the time to breathe in. "I mean, he didn't say it, not exactly anyway, he heavily implied that he was about to say it. If I hadn't interrupted him, he-"

Lily, swallowed, and looked at Marlene head on for the first time that night.

"It's over Marlene. It's truly… Over…" and she sounded so completely broken, that Marlene didn't know what to say. All she could think to do was to put her arms around the distraught witch. As soon as she did so Lily latched onto her friend desperately, and started sobbing into Marlene's shirt.

Marlene didn't know how long they sat there like that, but she knew that when Lily had finally calmed down enough to stop crying, her shirt had several mascara stains that were _not_ there before, and her hand was numb from massaging Lily's scalp.

"Hey Lils?" Marlene whispered, careful not to startle Lily, who seemed to be in some type of trance.

"Mm?"

"Let's go inside. I'll make hot chocolate."

"Mmm…"

Marlene frowned. Clearly it would take more than her hot chocolate to cheer Lily up this time. It was time to bring out the big guns.

"And… I got a few new Elvis records to add to my collection…"

Marlene watched with a smirk as Lily straightened up eagerly, her eyes twinkling once more.

"Reeeally? You aren't shitting with me, are you?" Lily questioned, practically bouncing in excitement. Marlene swore that Lily almost tumbled off the steps when Marlene shook her head. "Oh, Marly this is excellent! Come on get up, what are you waiting for?!"

Laughing, Marlene got up and let Lily and herself in. Her entire family, comprised of her mother, stepfather and five brothers, didn't appear to be home, but Marlene already figured that out by the fact that Lily was waiting for her on her doorstep, rather than inside her house.

They headed straight up to Marlene's room, Lily not even bothering to take off her coat.

Marlene's room was large and spacious, but because of the ridiculous amount of _stuff_ she owned, it was practically impossible to tell. She had three shelves filled up with books which were read more by Lily than herself, two large wardrobes, a desk that had 'L.E' and 'M.M' surrounded by a heart carved into the side, and a tiny burn mark from the first time Lily and she tried to smoke a cigarette, and Marlene almost set the desk on fire with Derek's lighter.

You didn't have to look far to see what Marlene's most prized possession was, because it was literally the only thing in the room that wasn't damaged in some way. The record player, placed on her dresser (because 'what do you mean two wardrobes are enough, mum? Have you _seen_ how many clothes I own?), was already in use by Lily, who was removing the Aerosmith record that Marlene had carelessly forgotten to return to its sleeve in the morning, and turning to Marlene's bed, where her newest records had a tendency to reside.

Marlene had the largest record record collection Lily had ever seen, rivalled only by Sirius's, if what Marlene said was to be believed (Lily highly doubted that Sirius's parents would have been very pleased with a muggle-born at their house (to which Sirius insisted that that was more the reason why she should come), and now that Sirius lived with the Potters Lily felt even more reluctant to go for a visit). Wherever the walls weren't covered with posters of various bands, there were shelves upon shelves filled to the brink with records. It appeared that Marlene was in need of yet another shelf, because there were many more records piled up on the desk than usual, and Marlene's floor was barely visible.

"I'll go make the hot chocolate." Marlene said, shrugging off her jacket and chucking it onto the bed.

"Hmm…" was Lily's answer, who was clearly not listening, too preoccupied with staring at Marlene's newest records in adoration.

Chuckling under her breath, Marlene turned to the door, exiting out into the hall just as Elvis's hypnotising voice filled the room.

Humming along to 'Hurt', which was still mildly audible from downstairs, Marlene slid into the kitchen and got started on making the chocolate, all the while swaying to the music.

She was just starting to boil the milk when she heard a light knock on the window. She glanced up, and found nothing. Shrugging it off, she resumed her dancing and sliding around the kitchen.

That was when she heard another knock, this time on the front door. Sighing deeply, she slid out onto the entrance hall and swung the door open, expecting it to be her family, having forgotten that it couldn't possibly be them, considering they went to visit her uncle up in Scotland. But when she opened it she found… nothing.

Sighing deeply, she started to close the door when out of nowhere, Sirius Black pounced on her, enveloping Marlene in a tight hug and singing 'Oh Danny boy!' at the top of his lungs. She screamed, and was about to berate Sirius when another voice cut her off, with another 'Oh Danny boy!'. James Potter strolled into view, grinning widely.

"I love you soooo!" They sang together, bowing deeply.

"What the hell guys?!" Marlene demanded, crossing her arms, having pried Sirius off her, but the sincerity of her anger was questionable, as she was smiling broadly. "You scared the living shit out of me!"

Marlene waited for the two wizards to cease their laughter and then asked, calmly:

"What are you guys doing here?"

"Well, you see Marly, we were simply passing by-" Sighed Sirius dramatically, leaning on the wall opposite Marlene.

"Oh I'm sure you were." Marlene muttered doubtfully.

"And we happened to catch a glimpse of you dancing in the kitchen," Sirius continued on, ignoring Marlene, who looked like she was about to interrupt him once more. "And we thought that it would simply be a crime to let you have all the fun, so we decided that it would only be fair if we joined in as well. I mean, who wouldn't want to rock out to Elvis?"

Marlene raised an eyebrow, staring at Sirius in disbelief, because he was exactly the kind of person who wouldn't want to 'rock out' to Elvis. James maybe, but definitely not Sirius. When she voiced this, Sirius looked as if he had never been so insulted in his entire life.

"Marlene!" He exclaimed indignantly. "How dare you suggest such a thing! Of course I love Elvis! I'm especially a fan of that one song, 'Can't Stop Falling For You'!"

Sirius looked so incredibly proud of himself at that moment that Marlene almost didn't roll her eyes and sigh with exasperation. _Almost_. Looking over at James, who was leaning against her now closed front door clearly doing everything in his power to refrain from laughing, Marlene informed:

"Well, that's great and all, but you guys have to go." Neither one of them reacted in any way. Sighing, Marlene leaned in, lowering her voice as if Lily could hear her all the way from upstairs, over the music no less. "You guys _have_ to go because Lily's here and she's really upset so-"

But Sirius had stopped listening after 'Lily's here'. "Lily's here? Oh this is wonderful, Marlene! I haven't seen Lily in such a long time!" He exclaimed, spinning Marlene around as he ran past her and up the stairs, not even bothering to take his shoes off.

"So I don't want either of you bothering her!" Marlene finished, glaring at Sirius's retreating back. "And you saw her like a week ago!"

But Sirius just continued up the stairs, ignoring Marlene completely. As soon as Sirius disappeared into Marlene's room, Lily's startled shriek and Sirius's laughter reached them.

Shaking her head with resignation, Marlene turned back to James, who had a very troubled look on his face.

"Marlene, why's Lily-" He broke off, scrunching up his face in disgust. "Marlene, what in seven hells is that smell?"

That was when Marlene noticed it. It was actually quite a great feat that she hadn't noticed it earlier. It was so incredibly strong and horrid, that she wouldn't even be surprised if her next door neighbour, kind old Mrs. Foster could smell it.

Recognizing at once what it was, Marlene swore under her breath and ran into the kitchen. As expected, the milk had finished boiling. More than finished; there was nothing left.

Swearing loudly, Marlene grabbed the burnt pan off the stove and chucked it into the sink, instantly filling it with cold water. Sighing heavily, she slumped against the cupboard and glanced over at James, who was leaning against the door frame and laughing.

"You really are quite an idiot, aren't you McKinnon?" James jested, walking over to her. Not having the energy to be offended, Marlene just smiled tiredly and ordered James to switch off the gas she had forgotten to turn off herself.

"I guess it's not so bad," Marlene sighed, staring up at the ceiling. "I mean, I would have to make more anyway, considering you two have insisted on staying, and Lord knows Sirius wouldn't speak to me for… about 8 hours if I didn't make him hot chocolate but did for Lily."

"Marls," James chuckled, placing his hands on her shoulders, waiting until she looked him in the eye to continue. "Calm yourself. It's just milk. Now tell me where the sugar is, I'll make the hot chocolate."

Marlene eyed him sceptically. "Lily's expecting the best hot chocolate there is, which would happen to be mine."

"Oh yeah?" James challenged, smirking, as he took a carton of milk out of the fridge and kicked it shut. "Just you wait until you try mine."

Still not entirely convinced, but too drained to argue, Marlene walked over a bit to her left and opened the cabinet above her, took out the sugar, placed it somewhere James was sure to see it, and sat down on the table behind him.

Marlene watched James in silence, and she had to admit that he might have been more of a hot chocolate expert than she, something she noted with dissatisfaction. She was trying to memorise what he had done so far, when she was broken out of her thoughts by James's voice.

"So, why is it that Lily requires hot chocolate?" James asked, clearly trying to sound nonchalant, but the slight waver in his voice when he said 'Lily' betrayed how worried he was.

"What do you think?" Marlene grumbled, glancing at James darkly, who had turned around to look at her by then. It was clear that James had understood her in an instant. He visibly tensed, and Marlene got the inkling that he was restraining himself from punching something.

"Snape." He uttered the word like it was poison, like it was something hideous and revolting and had to be wiped clean off the face of the earth at all costs, and never had Marlene in her life agreed with him more.

"He… he, um," Marlene started hesitantly, not entirely sure that telling James was a good idea. She sighed, scooped her hair out of her face and blurted out, without giving herself time to change her mind: "He as good as called her a 'mudblood' again."

James reacted exactly like Marlene expected he would. "That fucking bastard," He swore, pushing himself off the cupboard he was leaning on and starting to pace the kitchen. "That god-damned slimy asshole! At that time I could've… He would've deserved it… Should've let Moony… But then he would…" He stopped suddenly, and stared at Marlene as if he'd only just seen her. "Marlene! I've got to talk to Lily, I have to-"

"NO!" Marlene exclaimed, jumping off the table and standing between James and the door into the hallway, as if scared he was going to run out and to her room at any second. "You can't! And anyway, what does Remus have to do with any of this?"

"Remus? What… Remus doesn't…" James muttered distractedly, staring at the corridor over Marlene's head longingly. "Nothing, I just… I have to talk to her Marlene, I have to-"

"No, James! That is the last thing she needs right now! What she needs right now is hot chocolate," Marlene indicated the mixture that was still simmering on the stove with her chin. "Elvis, and _people who care about her_."

James glanced down at her, apparently having a hard time deciding between murderous revenge (the option he usually went with), and his desire to make Lily happy. At last he closed his eyes, sighed, and muttered: "Fine. Okay, fine, but when it comes to tearing Snivellus a new one, you've got to be doing the tearing right with me."

Marlene grinned. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Soon the chocolate was done, and after a couple minutes of preparing everything (Marlene had decided to help James with this, but soon gave up because according to James she was doing everything wrong), James and Marlene were trudging up the stairs, four cups of hot chocolate in tow.

Once they had reached her door, Marlene shouted 'Put your clothes back on kids! We're coming in!' and, pressing down on the door handle with her elbow, shouldered the door open.

As soon as her room came into view, Marlene's gaze landed on a scowling Lily, who was laying on her bed diagonally, a grinning Sirius's head resting on her belly.

"Oh but Marlene!" Sirius pouted, repositioning himself so that his whole head now rested on Lily, ignoring her protests. "I look so good naked!"

"I assure you, Black," Marlene scoffed, passing one of the cups she was holding to Lily, while James passed one of his to Sirius. "That nobody in here wants to see you naked."

"You never were a very good liar, McKinnon." Sirius said simply, his eyes momentarily sliding over to Lily's face, who in turn was doing everything in her power to avoid Sirius's gaze. This went unnoticed by both Marlene and James, because Marlene was turning the record that had just stopped playing over, and James was placing his cup onto Marlene's desk.

"For the last time, Padfoot," sighed James, walking over to the bed and falling down on it face first. "MacDonald paid me 5 galleons to say that! Nobody thinks that 'Sirius Black has a heavenly body and everyone is desperate to see him naked'!"

Marlene snorted, whereas Sirius ignored him and turned to Lily: "Lily, dear, would you be so kind as to lift you legs very fast so that James falls off, preferably hitting his head very hard?"

But Lily wasn't paying attention. She was staring at James, who had in fact started using Lily's legs as a cushion, as if she only just noticed he was there.

"Potter." She finally uttered, after a somewhat tense silence. She seemed to making an effort to keep her voice friendly, and Marlene had to fight the urge to gawk. What happened with Snape clearly affected her more than she could ever know.

"Alright, Evans?" James grinned up at her, his hand already travelling to mess up his hair. Rolling her eyes, Marlene picked up James's cup of cocoa and made her way over to the others.

"This chocolate is even better than usual Marlene!" Lily said as Marlene sat at the foot of her bed, between James and Sirius. "You've really outdone yourself!"

"Actually I-"

"Hasn't she?" James interjected, lifting his own cup to his lips and said, before taking a long gulp: "I would even go as far as to call her the hot chocolate expert!"

Marlene looked at him quizzically, but he just raised an eyebrow at her over the top of his cup, as if to challenge her to admit she didn't do a thing to help him, not counting her attempts at decorating with cream.

She almost told Lily that, if just to spite James for trying to order her around with _an eyebrow_ , but she figured James probably had his reasons for not wanting her to know, even if they were incredibly stupid and pointless. So instead, she leaned back, resting her head on Sirius's shoulder and sighed:

"Ah, yes, I am quite wonderful, aren't I?"

Sirius snorted, and Marlene reached over her head to push his face away, but because she couldn't see his face she poked him in the eye. She half gasped and half sniggered when he yelped. Glaring, Sirius tried to retaliate.

"Watch it, Black!" Shrieked Marlene, and Sirius halted. "If you spill my chocolate I swear on Merlin's hairy backside I will cut your hair off!"

Fear flickered in Sirius's eyes, and, sulking, he positioned his head back on Lily's belly, but not before gathering his hair onto his left shoulder, away from Marlene.

"Sirius Black!" Lily growled as her hot chocolate sloshed dangerously close to the top of her cup due to Sirius's movements. "If any of _my_ chocolate spills you will be the one 'falling off, preferably hitting your head very hard'!"

"Aw, Evans," James smirked, glancing up at Lily. "It feels like you're defending me!"

"In your dreams Potter." Came Lily's icy reply, but Marlene was fairly certain that if she lifted her head, she would see a smile on Lily's face.

* * *

 **A/N** : I've finally finished the first chapter! I'm not sure about the ending, it just seems like it gradually gets worse and worse, but I'm tired and I've been writing this chapter for weeks, so here it is! Yes, I know, it's quite short and most of it is about making hot chocolate, but I wanted to start off with some fluff, so there.

Hope you enjoyed, and reviews are kindly appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot (and maybe a few characters along the way).**

 **A/N:** I am so, so, SO sorry for how long this took, I honestly had no excuse, I was just being plain lazy (I was sick once, but that only took a week, not two entire months). The important thing is is that it's here now, right?

This chapter was honestly the longest chapter I've ever written for any fanfic or story I've written before, I don't know what came over me, nor do I know why on earth I thought it would be a good idea to have seven sections that I must complete at all costs, but I did it, and here is the end result! I doubt I'll ever write one as long as this one though.

I'm quite happy with this one as a matter of fact, so I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 _Chapter Two:_

 _I Dub Thee: The Day of Sadness_

The last day of the summer holidays was an especially nice day. The sky was clear and the sun was shining, and it was neither too hot nor too cold. It was the kind of day made for lazy Sunday afternoons or picnics in the park, and Mary MacDonald absolutely hated it.

Usually on these kinds of days Mary was in her element, but as she walked between rows upon rows of graves, she wanted nothing more than to scream and cry and rip the hair out of her head. And anyone could tell you that Mary loved the colour black (it was the colour of mascara and eyeliner and James Potter's hair) but on this day, tearing up the black dress she currently had on would give her an immense amount of satisfaction.

She glanced down at the flowers she was holding (dark red roses) and had a sudden urge to throw them as far away from herself as she could. But she didn't, because her mother had yet to arrive, and once she did there would be enough drama without Mary screaming and throwing flowers.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Mary sat down on a nearby bench, placing the flowers beside her. The grave she had sat in front of was black and simple-looking, but extremely well taken care of, and clearly visited quite often. In fact, it seemed that it was visited that very morning, judging by the fresh flowers lain on its surface and the still-alight candle placed right under the epitaph:

 _Thomas Blackwood_

 _(1918 - 1971)_

That was it. No loving or commemorative words, just a name, a very common name at that, but it was all it took for Mary to start crying.

Cursing herself, Mary wiped away the few tears that managed to escape past her eyelashes, and, grabbing the roses off the bench, continued making her way through the graves. She would be damned if she let anyone see her tears, regardless of whether she knew them or not.

She was almost there. She was just passing the rosebush she accidentally set on fire at age nine, when something, or rather _someone_ caught her attention. There, in the periphery of Mary's vision, stood her mother. She too, like Mary, was wearing a black dress, although hers was considerably shorter and tighter than Mary's. Her hair was unusually tidy, twisted into a neat bun at the back of her head. Mary had yet to discern what her make-up looked like, but she assumed someone had helped her make that look presentable too. Repressing a sigh, Mary pressed on, putting her mother out of her mind for the time being.

In a matter of seconds, she was there, standing in front of the grave she had been coming to at least once a year, for nine years. Taking a deep breath, Mary stepped closer, her throat so tight she doubted her ability to speak. She crouched down to place the flowers onto the grave, the name 'Thomas MacDonald' staring at her. Suddenly all she had wanted to say seemed to evaporate into thin air, and all she could do was stare at her father's name, mouth hanging open.

"Mary." A voice said dryly behind her. Recognising the voice at once, Mary closed her eyes and, inhaling sharply, stood up and faced Evelyn MacDonald.

"Mother." She replied in kind, her face completely wiped of emotion. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Mary, don't be ridiculous, I _live with you._ " Evelyn stated dismissively, rummaging through her bag for something.

"Oh really?" Mary muttered, glancing to the side and willing the ever more tempting urges to scream away. "I haven't noticed."

"Mary, dear, what on _earth_ are you-"

"Seriously?" Mary spat, having noticed what it was her mother had been looking for, as she had found it and brought it out of her bag by then. "You're drinking? Now?"

"What? This?" Evelyn questioned, indicating the hip flask in her hand. "You can hardly expect me to do this sober do you? It's just a little something to help me along the way." As if to prove this, she raised the flask to her lips and took a sip.

"'Just a little-'"

But before Mary could finish her sentence, someone placed a placating hand on her shoulder, apparently sensing the imminent outburst.

"Ladies!" Greeted Jonathan Watts, the brother of Evelyn and Mary's uncle. He, like Evelyn, was stunningly beautiful, with auburn hair that seemed to have fifteen different shades when it caught the light, captivating brown eyes and really quite marvellous cheekbones, although Evelyn's beauty seemed to have somewhat faded in the recent years. "It's really great to see you both! Just about everyone's here, so I expect we'll be starting soon. Evelyn, is that a hip flask?"

"No. Your sight seems to be failing you in your old age, dear brother." Evelyn claimed, slipping said hip flask back into her bag while shooting her brother a charming smile.

"Just… keep the drinking to a minimum, alright?" Jonathan sighed resignedly, eyeing his sister with a mixture of sadness and disappointment.

"I always do."

That, of course, was a lie, as about half-way through Mary's great-aunt Bertha's speech she had already given up on being discreet about the drinking, and was openly sipping from her flask as often as she saw fit, even going as far as to offer some to old Albert MacDonald, who graciously denied, while looking thoroughly disgruntled.

The whole thing, the MacDonalds and the Watts and a few others meeting to honour the memory of Thomas MacDonald, was something that had happened every year following his passing, at first on Evelyn's request, but had now become something of a tradition. Attendance wasn't required exactly, but everyone always made sure to show their face, if not for themselves then for Mary and Evelyn.

Although it was usually a peaceful gathering, for the past two years the amicable atmosphere had been disturbed, by no other but Evelyn. Therefore, everyone present was, understandably, more focused on anxiously observing Evelyn than on the speeches, which Evelyn had already started making snide comments about under her breath.

"'Was always the perfect gentleman'? Oh please, it's as if you never knew the man." Was what she could be heard saying at that very moment, during Stacey Whitchum's speech, an old friend of Thomas's. Her brother, who was standing beside her, made an attempt to shush her, as the volume of her remarks had been increasing, and a few people were staring to glare at her, but Mary doubted those attempts were earnest, because he seemed to be fighting a smile.

"... and he will always have a special place in my heart, as I am sure he does in all of yours." Stacey finished, placing her hands over her heart and shooting a charming smile at her audience. Everyone clapped duly, more out of politeness than genuine appreciation. All but one; to nobody's surprise, Evelyn's reaction was to roll her eyes and drink.

"Oh, I do wonder why." Evelyn grumbled, but made sure to speak loudly enough for Stacey to hear her.

"Evelyn, dear, how… _lovely_ to see you," Stacey greeted faux sweetly, the corner of her mouth - which was still stretched into a giant smile - twitching. "Did you want to say something?"

"Yes, actually," Evelyn admitted, taking a few steps forward. Then, as if remembering something, added: "Sweetie."

"Evelyn…" Warned Jonathan, grasping Evelyn's elbow, but she just shook him off and held her hand up to silence him.

"No, please, Jonathan, allow her to speak," Stacey prompted, all the previous warmth gone from her voice, and the kindness in her eyes replaced with malice. "I'm very interested in what she has to say."

"Oh, you know, just that you were in love with my husband." Evelyn sighed dramatically. "Or should I say ex-husband, because he's _dead_."

A stunned silence seemed to fall over the already silent cemetery. Everybody seemed reluctant to do so much as breathe, in fear it would be what tipped Evelyn over the edge. They all knew the moment had come; the drama was about to begin, and Mary felt even more ill than before.

"Oh, what?!" Cried Evelyn, turning to glare at everyone in turn. "Don't give me that 'oh dear God, I had no idea' thing! We are literally all staring at his grave!"

"Evelyn I don't think-"

"No, no, no, NO! I am saying this, and I swear if you try to stop me or as much as TOUCH my alcohol I will castrate you, Jonathan Watts! I have had more than enough of seeing that bloody _whore_ ," she turned to glare at Stacey, who looked most aggrieved. "Come here every year, spewing words of love, kindness and support while she was _lusting_ after _my_ husband!"

To say that everyone was speechless would be an understatement. Stacey's face was so red Mary feared her head would catch on fire, although Evelyn wasn't looking too pale either, whether it was because of the alcohol or anger Mary did not know. She, on the other hand, had the impression that she looked paler than fresh snow. She was stuck between wanting to run up to her mother, and running away, as she felt the threat of tears was close-by, but she feared if she tried any of these things she would collapse. So she stood, and watched as her mother grew more and more hysterical, absolutely powerless to stop it.

"You were always hanging around, trying to seduce him in ridiculous ways!" Evelyn spat, waving her hands around and spilling some alcohol onto her dress. She elected to ignore this, and continued: "Well, at least I've got the satisfaction of knowing he never felt the same way."

"Evelyn, I-" squeaked Stacey, but Evelyn was not about to give her a chance to speak.

"No! Shut up! I am NOWHERE near through with you! You know, I find it most insulting that you _dare_ show your face here, when if it wasn't for you, if you hadn't introduced him to, to those… those DEVILS, he wouldn't have started smoking them everywhere he went, and he would still be with me right now!" Evelyn bellowed, her voice shaky and weak, tears flowing down her cheeks.

Clearly, nobody had expected for things to escalate to such a magnitude, as nobody seemed to think of a single thing to do but stare. Mary raised her trembling hands to cover her mouth, fearing that if she didn't she would scream. Her stomach was reeling and her head was whirling, and in that instant, she almost ran up to her mother and hugged her. She almost wrapped her mother's arms around her and cried, not giving a damn if anyone saw her. But she didn't, and she probably wouldn't have, but either way before she could do anything, Jonathan hurried over to her mother and grabbed her arms, whispering something to her.

"No Jonathan! She killed my husband!" Evelyn cried, attempting to wrench herself free of Jonathan's grasp. "My husband is dead because of her! And my daughter is-"

"Evelyn, not here!"

"My _daughter_ is-"

"THIS IS NEITHER THE TIME NOR PLACE, EVELYN." Jonathan roared, and at once Mary's mother seemed to regain some sense. For a moment she stared at Jonathan, not saying a word, but then, she fell against him, shaking with sobs.

"I-I can't take it, Jonathan." Evelyn mumbled pitifully, her heartbroken sobs not muffled in the least by Jonathan's shirt. "She's… she's just…"

"I know, Evelyn, I know." Jonathan sighed heavily, closing his eyes momentarily. "Come on, let's get you out of here."

Mary's mother nodded, and they made their way through the crowd, through the graves and out of sight, and even then no-one said a word. Thinking that she'd had quite enough, Mary too departed, tears already streaming down her face.

* * *

Diagon Alley was chaotic. The survivable weather seemed to have driven every single person in Britain from their homes and into Diagon Alley, in fear that the insufferable heat would return at any second. The shops were filled to the brink with people and the streets allowed little elbow space, but nobody looked bothered by that in the least while they laughed and shopped happily.

Alice Fortescue was not so easily fooled by this weather however. She thought, as she leaned on the window of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, that everyone was being incredibly naïve. Clearly this seemingly perfect day was false, intending to trick people into high spirits only to utterly devastate them, somebody's sick idea of entertainment.

Who this somebody was Alice did not know, but she figured they deserved nothing more than Licorice Snaps and melted ice cream for the rest of their miserable lives. Because it so happened that Alice herself fell right into the trap, as she too believed that today would be the 'perfect day' upon waking up. It didn't take her long to find out just how wrong she was.

"You know, if you like that window so much I could sell it to you."

Frowning, Alice transferred her gaze onto the smirking face of Florean Fortescue, Alice's cousin and the owner of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. He was a young, fairly attractive wizard who had graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry only three years prior, but was, impressively, already running a moderately successful business. Alice didn't speak to him often, what with her being at Hogwarts and such, but they frequently exchanged letters and made sure that they met at least once every time Alice was home from school, so she would consider them quite close.

"I don't want your windows, Florean." Alice sighed, turning her attention back onto the smiling faces of witches and wizards. "What I do want is to know why the hell they're all so damn happy."

"The asshole's still not here then?" Florean guessed, reclining against the window beside Alice and crossing his arms.

"Cormac's not a-" Alice started to protest, twisting to face Florean.

"Oh really? Then how did you know I was speaking about him and not, for example, Mr. Murphy from across the road?" Florean interrupted, raising his eyebrows in amusement and chuckling at Alice's dumbfounded expression.

"He's not." Alice insisted, but she sounded considerably less vehement than before. "Really."

"Oh yes, the perfect gentleman!" Florean snorted and rolled his eyes. "Everybody knows that what every girl appreciates is being stood up by her boyfriend."

"He's not standing me up! I'm sure he has a perfectly good reason for _being late_."

"Oh how I envy you a boyfriend who's _two hours late_. If you asked me-"

"But I didn't." Alice snapped, her glare daring him to continue. "Besides, it's only been an hour. He'll be here soon."

"Right, well, when you decide to stop being stupid, I'll be inside, tending to actual _customers_." And with that, Florean was back inside, taking orders and occasionally sending exasperated looks in Alice's direction.

Alice continued in the same manner she did before, pointedly ignoring Florean and scowling at passersby. As she had promised he would, Cormac Gibson appeared not ten minutes later, apologising profusely and promising that he would make it up to her somehow.

"Cormac, it's fine." Alice assured him, although her tone said anything but. "I didn't wait for that long anyway."

This of course was a lie, but Cormac seemed appeased, and, with a wave to a dissatisfied Florean, they were off down the populous street, no particular destination in mind.

"So," Cormac begun, after approximately five minutes of walking in silence. "Where do you want to go first?"

"Somewhere with food would be preferable." Alice uttered through gritted teeth, determined not to let her annoyance show, but failing quite miserably. Luckily, Cormac didn't seem to notice. "Considering this is a _lunch_ date."

"Right, of course, I forgot." Cormac muttered sheepishly, and Alice instantly regretted her resentful tone. Therefore, when Cormac reached out his hand, she took it, albeit grudgingly.

The rest of the journey to _Katherine's Spell_ , one of Alice's favourite cafés, gave them little chance to speak, much to Alice's relief. The streets were becoming increasingly more crowded, and even if they tried, they wouldn't be able to hear each other over the noise.

Thankfully (or unfortunately), the inside of Katherine's Spell was considerably less populated than the rest of Diagon Alley, with only a few tables occupied throughout the entire establishment. Normally, the peacefulness was exactly what Alice adored about the cosy café, but when she was so desperately seeking a way out of all conversation she almost wished they were in The Three Broomsticks.

Chewing her lip and scanning the shop nervously, Alice followed Cormac to the ordering station. A kindly middle-aged woman, namely Katherine, stood behind the register, smiling eagerly at them.

"Hello! What can I get you?" She asked as soon as they were within earshot. Cormac started placing his order, and appeared to be asking Alice something, but she had stopped listening as soon as she spotted a familiar blonde head of hair.

"Emmeline!" Alice shrieked, grabbing onto the sleeve of Cormac's robes, a smidgen of her chipper mood returning. "Cormac, look, it's Emmeline!"

"Emmeline?" Cormac repeated, staring down at Alice's beaming face bemusedly. "What's an 'Emmeline'?"

"Emmeline Vance! Oh, Cormac, I haven't seen her all summer, and I've missed her terribly! I've just got to go say hello, you'll be fine over here right?"

"I- Alice your order!"

"Just get me the usual!"

"The usual? What usual? I don't know what your usual is!" But Alice was hardly listening, already weaving in between the tables in the direction of Emmeline Vance, who was sitting in a booth in the back and simultaneously reading a book and sipping coffee from the mug in her hand, occasionally missing her lips.

"Emmeline!" Alice exclaimed, plopping down opposite the bespectacled witch, who started and almost spilled her coffee at the sudden noise. Upon noticing who the source of the noise was, she smiled broadly.

"Alice! Oh, dear, I haven't seen you in too long!" Emmeline gasped, gently closing her book, placing her coffee down onto the saucer, and interlacing her fingers on top of the book. "How have you been?

"Oh, I've been pretty great! The heat's been getting to me, but apart from that I've been wonderful!" Alice rushed out, still overwhelmed with excitement at seeing her friend. "How about you? How was Italy?!"

"Oh yes, yes, that's was great and everything, but more importantly- you're not going to believe this I can hardly..." The witch took a deep breath, more to calm herself than for dramatic effect, Alice thought, considering Emmeline wasn't a very dramatic person at all. "I… I got Head Girl."

The sound that escaped Alice could only be compared to that of a pterodactyl.

Ignoring the annoyed stares of those around her, Alice circled the table and embraced the laughing blonde, all the while babbling about how proud and happy she was.

"Wow, I can't believe it!" Alice continued to marvel once she had returned to her seat. "That's a lie, I totally can, because you're so amazing and all!" Alice prattled on excitedly, only stopping once she was out of breath. "So, who's the Head Boy then?"

"Oh, you won't believe this!" Emmeline leaned in as if divulging a secret. "It's Frank Longbottom."

"Frank Longbottom?" Alice echoed, her eyebrows drawing together in confusion. And then, recognition dawned on her. "Oh! He's the one the Marauders talked into flooding the Slytherin Common Room, isn't he?"

"Yes, yes, that's the guy!" Emmeline confirmed, covering her mouth with her hand as she shook with a sudden onslaught of giggles. "And then he… he…"

"Oh Merlin, I remember!" Alice grinned, the memory of how Frank Longbottom came to be known as 'Pervy Pete' returning to her. "Still considered the best prank the Marauders ever pulled!"

"I-I don't… I don't know," Emmeline stammered through her guffaws. "I th-think the buff… buffalo was pretty… good."

All it took was one look at the hysterical Emmeline for Alice to also burst into uncontrollable laughter, ineffectively muffled by her hands.

Their hilarity only ceased when a slightly irritated Cormac Gibson arrived at their table, two trays in tow.

"Oh, hello Gibson." greeted Emmeline upon noticing him, the mirth still not entirely absent from her voice . "I didn't know you were here. Did you come with Alice?"

Her question went unanswered however, because before Cormac got a chance to even consider answering Alice exclaimed: "Cormac! Oh I am so sorry, I was just so immersed in the conversation that I completely forgot-"

"No, it's fine." Cormac said, although despite his claims he still looked miffed. "I expect the food it getting cold though; we should find a table."

"Right. Of course." Alice concurred, rising from her seat and enveloping Emmeline in a hug. "See you at Hogwarts, Emmeline! And good luck!"

After thanking Alice and bidding her goodbye, Emmeline promptly returned to juggling reading her book and drinking her presumably now cold coffee, while Alice and Cormac departed to look for a place to sit.

As soon as they situated themselves at their table of choice, Cormac inquired of her:

"So, what was it that amused you two so much?"

"Frank Longbottom." Alice replied nonchalantly, buttering a piece of her toast.

"Frank Longbottom?" Cormac repeated with incredulity and a hint of distaste. "What has Frank Longbottom ever done worth laughing at?"

"What has Frank Longbottom ever done deserving of your anger?" Alice snapped, inexplicably feeling the need to defend this boy she'd barely ever spoken two words to.

"I…" Cormac blinked owlishly at Alice, stunned by her outburst. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Thought as much." Alice nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. She suddenly got the urge to ask how he had known her usual, because there really was no way he could have known, but refrained from it, rather hoping to avoid further conversation. Her boyfriend however, seemed to desire the exact opposite.

"Alice, are you alright?" He queried, worriedly scanning her face.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Because you seem a bit-"

"Cormac." Alice cut him off, and met his eyes with a gaze that quite clearly stated 'back off'. "I'm fine."

Cleverly, Cormac decided not to press the matter further, letting the silence fall around them. The next time he spoke was when he was holding the door open for Alice as they exited the café.

"Where do you want to go next?"

"I don't know," Alice answered truthfully, her tone noticeably warmer than before. Halting in order to wait for Cormac to exit Katherine's Spell, Alice scanned the area in search of somewhere they could go. "Why don't we go to The Leaky Cauldron? I quite fancy a Butterbeer."

Cormac seemed enthusiastic about that idea, so they headed for The Leaky Cauldron, chatting about trivial matters to pass the time, and before they knew it, they had arrived at the entrance to the pub.

Alice could not have been prepared for the sight that met her eyes upon entering even if she was warned about it beforehand. Because there, in a booth, was Mary MacDonald, sloshing a suspicious liquid around in a bottle and looking as if she had crawled out of hell itself. Her hair was in a disarray, her makeup was somehow smudged all over her face, and her cheeks were, quite clearly, wet with tears. She couldn't have looked less like Mary MacDonald if she tried.

"Oh dear Merlin, Mary!" Alice yelled, ignoring the perplexed looks people threw her way as she ran to the distressed witch.

"Heeeeey, best friend!" Mary exclaimed, inclining her head in greeting.

"What the hell happened?!" Alice questioned as she crouched in front of her friend, placing one of her hands on Mary's shoulder and steadying herself with the other.

"What, you mean apart from my dear mother and the worst day of my life?" Mary shrugged, lifting the dubious bottle to her lips, but before she could drink from it, it was ripped out of her hands.

"What is this?" Alice demanded, scrutinising the bottle with distrust. "This is Firewhisky, isn't it?! Mary, how on earth did you get this? They don't sell this to minors in The Leaky Cauldron!"

"No, but Tom's nephew Larry over there does take bribes." Mary grinned, attempting to make a pointing motion in the direction of the bar, but it ended up looking as if she was waving to the ceiling.

Alice was about to shoot a murderous glare at Larry when she had a sudden realisation. It was all she could do not to cry.

"It's… It's today, isn't it?" She whispered, meeting Mary's solemn eyes with her own watery ones. For a few seconds Mary did nothing, but then, just as Alice was starting to think that she wouldn't respond, she hesitantly nodded.

Exhaling sharply, Alice straightened up and ran a hand through her hair. She could feel Cormac watching her expectantly, but he was the last thing on Alice's mind at the moment.

"Oh Merlin," Alice breathed out, running her hands down her face and willing her nerves to calm down. Casting a glance over her shoulder at Cormac, Alice leaned over her table to address Mary. "Right, okay, well, Cormac's waiting for me," Alice chose to ignore the groan that escaped Mary at those news. "So I have to go and tell him that I'm staying with you, so… just wait here. Sit here and… don't move, okay?"

"Yes ma'am!" Mary agreed, saluting Alice as she walked away from the booth.

"Cormac." Alice sighed as she approached her boyfriend, who was hovering near the exit to Diagon Alley.

"Alice! Is everything alright?" Cormac asked, his eyes filled with worry.

"Not really." Alice admitted. "Not at all actually. As a matter of fact, I think I should stay with Mary… she really needs me right now and-"

If Alice had expected understanding from Cormac, she was about to be heavily disappointed, because what she got was the complete opposite.

"Wow, Alice," Cormac spat, staring down at her in a condescending manner. "First you ditch me for that Vance chick and now MacDonald? If you didn't want to spend time with me that much, you should have just said so, would have saved us both a lot of time."

"What? Ditching you? Cormac I'm not-"

"Right, right, okay." Cormac snorted, crossing his arms and leaning on the wall behind him. "It wouldn't be as bad if this was a one time thing, but you always do shit like this, Alice."

Panic was starting to tie Alice's stomach into knots. She had not expected Cormac to react in this way. She had not expected that at all. It wasn't like he didn't get angry over petty things from time to time, but those were truly _petty_ things, not anything like this. Not when she really needed him to understand. "Cormac, I'm sorry but I really have to-"

"And the thing is," Cormac continued, ignoring Alice, who felt the threat of tears was ever closer than before. "Your friends have had you every day during the summer, because they didn't like I did, go on vacation to Europe-"

"Actually Emmeline-"

"-so they could have picked any other day to 'really need you'. What if _I_ , your _boyfriend_ really need you right now, huh?"

"I'm sorry I just-"

"You know what Alice?" Cormac said dryly. "Go to your MacDonald, since clearly your friends' petty problems are so much more important to you than our relationship."

And with that, he was out the door to Diagon Alley once more.

For a moment Alice wasn't aware of what was happening around her. She wasn't aware of the fact that a witch with a very pointy hat was smiling sympathetically at her, nor that Larry had crept by, offering her a Firewhiskey on the house, nor that Mary had offered to pass that Firewhisky onto her once she returned to the land of the living. All she was aware of, as she stared at the door Cormac had exited out of, was the fact that she was a terrible girlfriend, too caught up in her pointless anger for being kept waiting to realise that her boyfriend really needed her. Until finally, she became aware of Mary's voice, and remembered that she had over things to worry about right now.

"Well," Mary inhaled sharply, sticking her head around the wall of her booth. "That's one lovely boyfriend you got there, For-tey-escue."

"Yeah," Alice sighed, wiping away the lone tear that had rolled down her cheek. "Let's just hope he still is my boyfriend."

"What?"

"Nothing. Come, let's get you cleaned up."

* * *

A thing that not many knew about Marlene McKinnon, was that she smoked. A lot. It was quite clear to anyone who spent more than five minutes with her that she had an addiction, but if asked she would deny it to her very grave. _She_ claimed that she only smoked on special occasions. Of course, those occasions happened to be any time anything mildly notable happened, like a mood change. Lily always pestered her about how insanely bad those were for her health, but Marlene wasn't a fool; she knew that her cigarettes weren't being stolen by Grenda the house-elf.

Today's special occasion appeared to be the fact that Marlene was annoyed.

"Fucking shit!" Marlene swore, sliding a cigarette out of the pack laying on the table and stuffing it in between her teeth angrily. Upon noticing that there was no lighter on the table, she removed it and placed it back on the table. "Bloody fucking bastard!"

She shot up from her chair and pulled it aside so roughly it fell over. Groaning frustratedly, she glared at it, but didn't pick it up, instead proceeding to scour the entire kitchen for a lighter.

"Dear God, are there no smokers in this family?" She complained, peering underneath the fridge.

"You mean other than you?" A voice jested from the doorway. It belonged to Marlene's older brother, Christopher, who, as Marlene saw once she had straightened herself, was leaning against the doorframe, eyeing her with amusement.

"Oh, ha ha, very funny." Marlene deadpanned, moving onto the drawers. "You don't happen to know where a lighter might be, do you?"

"No, Marlene, I have no clue as to where a lighter might be, because clearly nobody in this house smokes at all."

Marlene stopped in her tracks and turned to stare at her brother with furrowed eyebrows.

"Was that sarcasm?"

"Of course not, I would never be sarcastic about a thing like this." Christopher claimed, his facial expression the epitome of sincerity. Marlene looked doubtful, but she said nothing about it.

"Well, could you help me look for one?" Marlene pleaded, pushing past her brother in order to check the coat pockets out in the hallway.

"What, and aid you with your smoking habit? I don't want to be responsible for your death, thanks." Chris refused, turning in the doorframe so that he could see Marlene. "Besides, I asked you not to smoke in the house. I'm tired of covering for you; I don't even smoke!"

"Oh, and I'm father Christmas!" Marlene chaffed, crossing into the living room. "Besides, I told you, I don't have a habit! I only do it on special occasions!"

"Oh, and I'm your Fairy Godmother." Christopher responded in like manner, following Marlene into the living room.

"Chris!" Marlene stopped suddenly, spinning around to face her brother. "Are you going to help me find a damn lighter, or are you going to hang around, giving me urges to give you a black eye?"

"First of all, you couldn't land a hit on me if you tried." Chris reasoned, swerving around the newspaper Marlene chucked at him in order to demonstrate. "Second of all, what on earth has gotten your panties in a twist?"

"What do you think?" Marlene grumbled, suddenly very interested in the doorframe past Christopher's shoulder.

"Oh, so that's it then?" Chris mumbled, understanding dawning on him. "The bastard from the land of Mordor finally showed signs of life?"

Marlene just nodded absently, a solemn expression on her face.

For a while they just stood there in silence, neither of them saying a word, doubtlessly thoughts of confusion, longing and bitterness running through both of their heads.

As Marlene stared at her brother, it struck her not for the first time how _different_ Chris looked from the rest of them. He didn't have the trademark McKinnon blonde hair, or grey eyes, or the freckled skin that most of the McKinnon children inherited. He was all dark hair, dark eyes and pale skin. It was because of the way he stood out in family pictures that strangers started questioning their mother's faithfulness. Chris absolutely adored that; he dubbed himself the official disturber of the McKinnon household peace.

"There." Christopher said suddenly, his eyes not moving from the spot he had previously been staring at.

"What?" Marlene questioned, raising her eyebrow tentatively.

"There's a lighter over there, on the coffee table."

"Oh!" Marlene exclaimed, and, grabbing the lighter off the coffee table, scurried over to the kitchen, Chris right behind her.

"So how'd he break it to you this time?" Chris enquired, leaning on the doorframe in the same place he had before as Marlene grabbed the cigarette she had left on the table and placed it between her teeth.

"Sent me a postcard." Marlene flouted, lighting the cigarette and chucking the lighter onto the table immediately afterwards. She took a long drag and closed her eyes as she breathed out, clearly relishing it.

"What'd he say?" Chris prompted, since Marlene had evidently not considered the fact that her brother might have been expecting her to elaborate.

"He claimed that he is deeply sorry for ignoring my last two birthdays, insisting that he was too busy with his new whore of a wife, Katrina or something like that." Marlene explained bitterly, watching the end of her cigarette slowly wither away.

"Are you fucking serious?!" Chris yelled, staring at Marlene in disbelief. "If I had a father like that-"

"But you don't." Marlene interrupted, lifting her eyes to meet his. "You don't even know who your father is."

"Yeah," Christopher agreed, breaking their eye contact and looking over at the table. "For all we know he could be exactly the same. Or worse."

Nodding glumly, Marlene lifted the cigarette up to her lips, breathed in, and then she too glanced down at the table, instantly realising what her brother was looking at. Putting the cigarette in between her teeth, she grabbed the postcard and lighter off the table, and, turning to the sink, clicked the lighter on.

"What are you doing?!" Chris demanded, alarmed, just as Marlene ignited the edge of the postcard. She scrutinised the offending piece of paper with distaste for a moment, and then chucked it into the sink, her unfinished cigarette following it closely.

"May you burn like this postcard, asshole." Marlene spat, extinguishing the lighter, placing it on the counter beside the sink and turning to face her brother, her expression unreadable.

"Marlene are you-"

His words got cut off by a shrill, unpleasant sound coming from the general direction of the hallway.

"That'd be Lily." Marlene informed, and, after grabbing her wallet and packet of cigarettes off the table, stepped into the hallway to put on her shoes. "Open the window, would you? Don't want the smell waking mum or David."

And with that, she was out the door.

* * *

"And that's really it? No, address, no telephone number…?" Lily questioned, 'sneakily' stealing another drag from Marlene's cigarette.

Marlene had just finished telling Lily about the postcard from her father, which she had only gotten around to doing after about 20 minutes of ranting angrily about him and wandering the streets aimlessly. At last, after said 20 minutes, Lily had had enough, and pulled Marlene down onto the curb, demanding an explanation.

"Nope, that's… it." Marlene sighed in response to Lily's question, bringing her legs up and wrapping her arms around them. Taking that as a sign that Marlene was finished with her cigarette, Lily made no effort to return it to its owner.

"Wow." Lily made a disbelieving sound in the back of her throat, inhaling from the almost-finished cigarette once more. "What an asshole."

Marlene agreed inwardly, but didn't say a word, not too keen on continuing the subject. Lily too didn't seem to have anything to add, instead busying herself with snuffing out the cigarette onto the pavement next to her.

It was a while before either of them spoke again, but when they did, they both did it at once, although what one of them said was considerably more notable than what the other did.

"This day really doesn't deserve to be this beautiful."

"I spoke to Severus again today."

For a moment it seemed as if time had stopped, with Marlene blinking owlishly at the extremely red Lily, her jaw hanging open. And then:

"You WHAT?!"

"I really didn't meant to! It's just that he turned up and-"

"What the actual hell, Lily?! Do you remember what that slimy son of a-"

"-he was begging and apologising and I shouted at him to go away but-"

"-and then he went and ALMOST DID IT AGAIN, do you remember that Lily, or was that just part of my-"

"-and then Petunia showed up and said that 'if I didn't get that _filthy rodent_ off our porch she would strangle me with a kitchen towel', so I had to do it because Vernon was there you see-"

"-and with all that effort I went through to stop Potter from hexing Snape to hell and back too-"

"-so I sat down and- you what?"

Marlene stopped (for she had gotten up and started pacing in front of Lily by then) and stared down at Lily incredulously. "Is that the only part you heard?"

"I-"

"Never mind, don't answer that." Marlene, sighed, running a hand through her hair and resumed walking. Then suddenly, she halted, glanced at Lily over her shoulder and blurted out: "Did you say 'kitchen towel'?"

"Yeah! And she had this devilish look in her eyes, I honestly believed her!"

"Man, Petunia is wild- WAIT! STOP!" Marlene bellowed unexpectedly, startling a couple of the neighbourhood's kids who were playing out in the street. "What the hell were you thinking, Lily?!"

"I- I wasn't, truth be told." Lily admitted, glancing up at Marlene with a pained expression. "I swear I didn't forgive him. I didn't even let him speak for ten seconds before I screamed at him to get off my porch, off my property and out of my life."

Marlene, swallowed, closed her eyes, breathed out heavily and asked: "What did he want?"

"To apologise," Lily sighed, folding her hands in her lap. "As per usual."

Marlene nodded, and sighed: "Yeah, that sounds like Snape."

Smiling weakly, Lily jumped up onto her feet and held out her hand to Marlene. Marlene eyed it suspiciously, but took it anyway.

"C'mon, we'll catch the Knight Bus to London." Lily explained, leading Marlene to a more secluded area. "I think we could both use a nice butterbeer in The Leaky Cauldron right about now."

Marlene couldn't agree more.

* * *

Peter Pettigrew's eyes scanned page after page, seeing but not actually _reading_. The loops and zigzags covered the pages, undoubtedly forming words, but no matter how hard Peter tried he couldn't discern what those words said. Or maybe he could, but either way, he had no recollection of what the last two chapters were about.

Groaning, Peter rubbed his eyes and leaned back on his bed. This wasn't the first time he had found himself unable to read. In fact, he wasn't sure he had actually managed to read anything all summer. Clearly there was something wrong with him, especially considering that the summer holidays were supposed to relax him, just as they did every other person, but not Peter. Truth be told, he was more relaxed at Hogwarts while doing piles of homework than he ever was when he was back at home. But this, of course, didn't come as much of a surprise to Peter.

Sighing, he brought the book he was reading up, so that it was hanging above his face. He flipped back to the last part he remembered reading, and attempted to engross himself in one of his favourite novels.

' _The remainder of my schooldays were no more auspicious than the first. Indeed, they were an endless…'_

Speaking of endless, time seemed to be dragging very slowly that morning. Peter had arranged to meet with Remus in the afternoon, and it seemed like he'd been waiting for 12:30 to roll around for hours, even though it had in fact only been about 30 minutes. However, it did seem a bit strange that he had already managed to get ready for the day, pack everything he would be needing for the next school year, clean the house, chuck everything in his wardrobe out and refold it, AND carefully analyse all the photos from his childhood and it was barely 10:30 in the morning.

Scrutinising his clock suspiciously, Peter closed his book and placed it on his nightstand, deciding that since trying to read was clearly leading nowhere, he might as well check if the other clocks in the house matched up with his. He slid off his bed and, stretching, made his way out into the hallway. The huge grandfather clock his mother loved too much to throw away but hid upstairs because 'it made too much noise' told Peter that it was, indeed, a little past 10:30.

Sighing, Peter turned to re-enter his room but just as he was about to open his door, he heard a noise from the kitchen. Figuring it was the cat trying to claw his way in through the kitchen door, because he for some reason refused to use the cat flap, Peter made his way downstairs. It came as quite a surprise that the cause of the noise was not the cat, but his mother, who appeared to be wandering aimlessly about the kitchen.

"Mum!" Peter exclaimed, halting in the kitchen doorway. "You're… here!"

"Sweetie!" His mother greeted, smiling weakly as she made her way over to Peter. About halfway there she stopped however, folding her hands in front of her, but in a very unusual way, as if she were trying to conceal something.

Margaret Pettigrew was a Muggle of about 40, but she looked both younger and older at the same time. Her face still held her gentle and some would say angelic beauty that had gotten her so many compliments in her youth, but that was the only thing about her that suggested she was the same lively girl she was back then. Her hair, once cascading in golden waves down onto her shoulders, now was bland and thin, and there seemed to be less and less of it every day. She had gotten worryingly thinner just in the last couple of days, and her skin was noticeably paler than Peter remembered it to be not so long ago. But worst of all in Peter's opinion was that the light in his mother's eyes was gone, her smiles were never genuine and her laughter was something unheard of. She was fading away, and Peter was powerless to stop it.

"What-" Peter swallowed, willing the lump in his throat away as he made infinitesimal steps towards his mother. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I…" Margaret started, pressing her palm to her forehead. "Well, Fred said I was looking sickly so he told me to go home." She made her way over to the other side of the table, dragging the fingers of her left hand along the surface. It was only then that Peter noticed that her hand was shaking. "I told him he was being ridiculous of course, as I am clearly fine, but he insisted."

"Well he was right, mother. You aren't looking too good." Peter observed, watching his mother with concern as she searched in her bag for something.

"Oh, that's nonsense, darling, I'm completely fine." Margaret assured him, but her actions contradicted her words, because just as she said that she brought a bottle of pills out of her bag and placed a few of them on the table in front of her. That was when she noticed the stack of envelopes which Peter had placed on the table while he was cleaning, all addressed to her. "Oh. Another notice came." Margaret squeaked, trying and failing to uphold her poor attempt at a cheerful tone. "Guess I'll just have to cut back on the medication." And for a moment there was a break in her lighthearted façade, but it was so brief Peter hardly noticed. "That's alright though, it's nothing I haven't done before."

"You should write to aunt Clara if you need help, mother, I'm sure she'd be happy to lend you some money."

The expression on Margaret's face when she looked up at Peter made it quite clear that she had forgotten that he was in the kitchen with her, and hadn't intended for him to hear any of what she had said. "Oh, no, it's fine." Margaret maintained, grabbing her pills off the table and trudging over to the sink. She took a clean glass off the drying rack and poured water into it. "I… We're completely fine."

But just as she said that, her knees buckled and she would have fallen, if she hadn't grasped the counter next to her at the last second. The glass tumbled out of her grasp and, luckily, fell into the sink and by some miracle stayed intact. The pills weren't so lucky however, and scattered across the kitchen floor.

Instantly, Peter was in front of her, straightening her up and desperately trying to keep from panicking, although he figured it was a bit too late for that. "You call that 'fine'?"

"Aren't you meeting with Remus today?" Margaret inquired weakly, ignoring her son's question as she attempted to pry Peter off her.

"That's not until one." Peter replied, throwing his mother's arm around his shoulders as she started to waddle out of the kitchen. "But there's no way I'm meeting him while you're-"

"Peter." Margaret interrupted, her voice surprisingly strong and commanding. "I manage alone all year while you're gone, I think you can manage a couple of hours. Besides, it's just a minor cold, I'll be better in no time."

That was a lie and they both knew it. Nonetheless, when Margaret detached herself from him and continued up the stairs by herself, Peter didn't make an attempt to stop her. Instead, he leaned on the wall next to the kitchen doorway and closed his eyes.

He didn't know how much he could take of constantly worrying. It was like a miniature creature tearing at his heart every second of every day. Although at times the feeling was fainter than at others, it never truly went away, and Peter didn't have a clue how to deal with it.

But what he couldn't take even more than the constant concern was the overwhelming relief he felt whenever he was at Hogwarts, where the responsibility for his mother was no longer his.

* * *

Looking back at it, he should have known something was wrong. Call it wishful thinking or blatant ignorance, but Remus Lupin genuinely thought his parents' bizarre behaviour that morning was nothing to be worried about, and, after grabbing two pieces of toast and settling at the table, continued with his morning as he usually would. You see, the mornings in the Lupin household usually went like this: Lyall Lupin, a man who was very passionate in every aspect of his life, commenting loudly on the the Daily Prophet and spilling coffee down his shirt, courtesy of the fact that he often forgot he was holding it when he was reading something particularly outrageous. His mother on the other hand, was the complete opposite. A sweet and calm woman, Hope Lupin liked nothing more than to make coffee in complete silence, and then to curl up on the sofa with a book, sipping her coffee slowly and carefully, as not to spill a single drop. Predictably, they never quite worked out the way she would have like them to due to her husband's rambunctious nature, but she managed to have relaxed and happy mornings nonetheless.

That morning however, the newspaper next to his father's plate lay untouched. As did his coffee. In fact, if it wasn't for the fact that he was blinking, Remus would have presumed his father dead. His mother however, was not caught in one position for longer than three seconds. She moved from the kitchen area to the bathroom to the hallway, all the while muttering things under her breath and occasionally yelling something incoherently. It was as if Lyall and Hope Lupin had gone through something of a personality swap. Now, on most days Remus would have realised that something was wrong the instant he walked into their living area. But that morning he was in a very good mood, due to the fact that he was meeting his friend, Peter Pettigrew, later on that day, and said meeting was the only thing on his mind. He had hardly seen his friend this summer, so his obliviousness was understandable. Or so he told himself as he stood on the threshold of his house, staring at the sight on the other side of the open door with horror.

"Remus." said a shrill voice, breaking Remus out of his shock induced trance. "Close your mouth, you look like an idiot. And move out of the way, would you? I'm not as young as I used to be, dear boy."

Still utterly dumbfounded, Remus closed his mouth, but refused to move.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed, glaring at the owner of the aforementioned voice, a rather dumpy woman who was wearing far more pink and yellow than should be allowed in the same room, let alone on the same person.

"Oh! Remus, is that any way to greet your beloved aunt and uncle?!" The woman exclaimed, who was in fact Remus's aunt. She shifted a bit to the left, and Remus saw a scrawny man with a balding head scrutinising their front door intently. "Where is Hope, Remus? Come on… What are you doing, let me through!"

Remus, who had been blocking his aunt's attempts to enter the house, sneered: "Oh, sure, just leave your entire personality outside and you're free to come in!"

"Well I never-"

"Barbara?" said a kind voice from behind Remus, and he glanced over his shoulder to see his mother and father exiting into the hallway. His mother was straightening her dress and laughing nervously, whereas his father looked as if he was trying very hard to hold his breakfast down, his face blanching at an alarming speed. "You're… here!"

"I would be if your son wasn't blocking the doorway!"

"Remus, come on, let them in." His mother requested, nodding reassuringly at Remus's dubious expression. Reluctantly, Remus stepped to the side to let their unwelcome guests in. His aunt sniffed, stuck her nose up in the air and pushed past, muttering something about Remus being just as unpleasant as she remembered him to be.

The scrawny man, who happened to be the uncle Barbara mentioned, followed suit. He stopped right next to Remus and, after giving the hallway a once over, turned to Remus and stated: "This one's just as terrible as the last one." Then he promptly walked past and stood next to Barbara. Biting his tongue to stop the various colourful insults that ached to leave his mouth, Remus shut the door, turned, and leaned his back on it.

"Hope, it is so great to see you!" Barbara, who had just finished removing various accessories off her person, exclaimed, and Remus was already mourning his sense of hearing. "I must say, it was quite rude of you not to tell us where you live now, it took us days to track you down!"

"Oh I wonder why she didn't." Remus muttered under his breath, not being able to help himself. Usually, he had very good control over his own mouth, but whenever his mother's family visited all that control seemed to vanish into thin air. He supposed it had something to do with five years of friendship with James.

"Lyall. Hello." Barbara nodded, turning her attention to Lyall, who grew even whiter still. Remus wondered if he was regretting taking a day off work right about now.

"Barbara." Lyall responded in kind, holding her scornful gaze. After a few tense seconds, she sighed with disappointment and turned back to Hope. She took her hands into hers, and looked into her eyes intently.

"Dear sister, you and I must have a talk about your taste in men." Barbara said affectionately, not even bothering to lower the volume of her voice so that Lyall wouldn't hear her.

"Excuse me?" Hope asked coldly, retracing her hands from Barbara's grasp.

Luckily Remus's uncle decided now would be the time to remind everyone of his presence, otherwise there might have been an argument as early on as five minutes after their arrival.

"Hope! Oh it's so nice to see you! I haven't seen you and… your husband in years!" He smiled broadly, a gesture that looked as if it caused him a lot of pain. Clearly he was miffed about something. Remus's money was on the fact that he had never gone so long without the attention being on him, and evidently he thought this was everyone else's fault. He probably thought they ought to pay for this crime greatly too.

"Patrick! Yes, we managed to stay at the old place for four years!" Hope answered, smiling softly, but there was sadness in her eyes. Remus's mother had loved their old house dearly, but their neighbours had started to notice something peculiar going on with Remus, and they were forced to relocate.

"Well, it wasn't much better than this one." He commented quietly while glancing at their hallway once more, although not quietly enough. "Hope, I must say, time has been very kind to you. You don't look like you've aged a day!"

"Can't say the same for you, I'm afraid." Hope observed flatly, her patience already starting to wear thin. Remus could relate. "What are you two doing here?"

"Oh, you moved, we came, you know how it goes. Besides we came to catch up with you, we've really missed you!" Barbara interjected before her husband could reply, her voice reaching that deafening volume again. Remus feared that if this continued, they'd have to move again very quickly, but this time because the neighbours would think they were torturing someone. "Now, where is your tea room?"

"We don't have one, Barbara. It might interest you to know that not all people roll around in money, which they stole from all their previous husbands so that they can have a _tea room_." Lyall retorted impatiently, clearly having have found his voice again.

"So where do you have tea then?" Barbara enquired, too shocked to be insulted.

"In the living room." Lyall said simply.

It was like they had stepped into a scene from one of those idiotic soap operas his dad insisted on watching whenever they came on the television. Barba clutched her chest and gasped melodramatically, while Patrick had to lean on the wall for support, his cane apparently not being enough.

Hope, Lyall and Remus all rolled their eyes in unison, and Remus thought it was probably the most magical thing that ever happened to him, even more magical than the fact that he was a wizard and his furry little problem put together.

"What are you all staring at?!" bellowed Barbara, who was now holding Patrick up. "Get the man some gin for goodness' sake! I think you gave him a heart attack!"

"Stop being overly dramatic and go through to the living room, I'll make us tea." Hope grumbled, not waiting for Barbara's reaction to go into their living area, Lyall and Remus following right behind her.

"'Wasn't much better than this one'?! I'll show him 'wasn't much better than this one'! Just you wait you arrogant snob, you-" Hope ranted animatedly as she walked into the kitchen, but got cut off suddenly.

"WHERE IS THE GIN?!" Came an outraged cry from the doorway. Barbara was stomping into the living area, Patrick right on her tail. "Honestly, you people are useless, I have to do everything by my- oh!"

She stopped suddenly, her facial expression the epitome of horror. It appeared that she had just noticed her surroundings, and had trouble taking it in. She had probably never seen an open concept style house.

"This… this…" This appeared to be too much for Barbara, and she had to sit down at the table. Patrick, who still looked as if he might fall over, followed in her footsteps.

It wasn't until Remus, Hope, and Lyall were done with the tea and were sitting at the table along with them that either Barbara or Patrick spoke again. It didn't come as a surprise to anyone that it was Barbara rather than Patrick who spoke first - excuse me, shouted.

"So, I think this is a better time than ever to start discussing the worries Patrick and I have regarding this… family, if you will."

"Here we go." Lyall muttered into his cup.

Barbara thought that Lyall's not-so-subtle comment warranted a solid ten seconds of glaring at him before she could continue. "Let us start with Lyall, why don't we."

"Oh, as much as I would love to be the one to talk about this, I think I'm going to leave this one to you, Barbara." Patrick felt the need to say, clearly unhappy with the lack of attention he was getting. If you asked Remus, that was incredibly generous of him.

"Why, thank you, Patrick." Barbara beamed. "Let's continue where we left off in the corridor, before you so rudely interrupted me, Hope. Your taste in men. It is absolutely ridiculous! First it was that outspoken guy with that horrible long hair-"

"One can ask himself, was that _really_ hair? Looked more like something you could wipe the floor with! Swishing and swashing everywhere…" Patrick interjected, waving his hand back and forth with the intention of recreating the alleged 'swishing and swashing'. Barbara hummed in agreement, sipping her tea. "I tell you, back in my day there was none of this bottom-length hair nonsense, it was nice and short, just the way it's supposed to be, I tell you!"

"You're absolutely right, Patrick." Barbara agreed.

"Of course I am."

"Oh and remember the opinions he had!" Barbara bellowed with both glee and disappointment. Remus had to admit he was somewhat impressed. He hadn't known that was possible. "We saw people like him outside the shop the other day, didn't we, Patrick?"

"Oh them and their damn opinions!" Patrick spat, waving in the air as if trying to swat the memory away. "All with their long hair, sitting and playing their guitars in the street, talking about how they're going to," he shivered, "travel the world, live off playing their guitars, even… live in vans!"

Barbara gasped as if that was the most horrifying thing she'd ever heard, spilling some of her tea onto her hand, though she didn't seem to notice.

"Oh that boyfriend of yours was just like the lot of them, constantly playing that damn thing, giving me a headache." Patrick grabbed his head with a pained groan to put the point across.

"Hey, say what you will but Paul played the guitar very well! Don't deny it - you thought so too!" Hope defended, looking at Patrick pointedly.

"Paul? That was his name?"Barbara commented quietly, wrinkling her nose. "Nasty common name, if you ask me."

"I-I don't remember such a thing at all, that claim is preposterous!" Patrick denied, but the way his eyes snapped open in panic gave him away.

"Uh huh, as well as the fact that you even _requested_ that he play music every time you met him." Hope countered, leaning back and folding her arms smugly.

"Whether or not he played well does not excuse his bizarre ideals and his intolerable personality!" Patrick burst out, going very red in the face.

"Or the hair." Barbara added, sipping her tea. She looked very uncomfortable. She was clearly not dealing well with not drinking out of a miniature cup and not having a saucer to match it.

"I actually met Paul once, and I thought he was really nice." Remus mentioned seemingly offhandedly, but in reality he had every intention of causing as much chaos as he could, merely in order to annoy his aunt and uncle as much as they had annoyed him (and although he was reluctant to admit it, he found them quite entertaining). His mother gave him a grateful look.

As expected, Patrick and Barbara didn't take this very well at all. They reacted in so many ways in such a short time Remus had a hard time comprehending what they were actually doing. One second Barbara was clutching her chest and heaving heavily, the next she had her head in her hands and was blabbering incoherently. Patrick, who had been leaning away from Remus and staring at him with a disconcerted and betrayed facial expression, was suddenly nose to nose with him, studying his face intently. Remus leaned as far back as his chair would allow him.

"Yes, I thought he was a great guy too." Lyall agreed, probably feeling like he was being too silent. Mind, that wasn't out of the ordinary. Whenever Hope's family visited, both Remus and Lyall tended to sit by quietly, either trying to refrain from making matters worse than they were or waiting by to back Hope up if the need to presented itself.

Barbara picked her head up from her hands. "Lyall can't you see this is a bad time for your nonsense?! We are going through a crisis here!" Lyall rolled his eyes. "Hope, what on earth were you thinking, introducing your son to-"

"You thought he was nice?" Patrick asked incredulously, his face inches away from Remus's.

"Introducing your ex to your son, let alone your husband! It's ridic-"

"Nice? Paul? Are you sure we're talking about the same person?"

"Unlike you Barbara, I don't keep anything from my husband."

"What are you-"

"Long, blond hair, wore a denim jacket every second of every day-"

"You know, Barbara, your relationship could do with a little honesty for a change."

"For goodness' sake, shut up Lyall!"

"Because from what I remember, Paul Peterson, was many things, but 'nice' was not-"

A sound resonated throughout the small house, a loud, unpleasant sound Remus would have thought would be enough to silence everyone (it seemed nothing was ever enough to silence Barbara). It was a sound Remus never would have thought he would be glad to hear, yet in this moment, this particular sound was his saving grace. The doorbell.

Remus shot up out of his chair at lighting speed, determined to get to the door before the others' attention drifted towards the matter of the doorbell, or worse, him, but he appeared to be the only one who had reacted to it in any way. His uncle shouted after him half-heartedly, but quickly preoccupied himself with contributing his undesired opinions to the ongoing argument ("I try to give you advice and _this_ is how you repay me? Hope, I did not-").

Once at the door, Remus pulled it open eagerly, hoping against all hope that it was his friend, Peter Pettigrew on the other side, not another one of his obnoxious relatives. It was.

"Hey!" Peter said, smiling broadly, although there seemed to be a hint of sadness in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something else, but just then, a shout reached them from the living area.

"Well I am sorry that my marriage is not a sham, Barbara, but then again I never did like to copy my sister."

An outraged gasp was heard, followed by a loud thump.

"Now looked what you've done to her, Hope!"

"Now, Patrick, don't overreact, I think this really suits her."

"SHE IS ON THE FLOOR, LYALL!"

"Think of it as a metaphor."

Peter raised an enquiring eyebrow, but Remus, who had a very pained expression, just muttered: "Don't ask" as he grabbed his wallet off the cabinet in the hallway and stepped out the door, shutting it firmly behind him.

* * *

"What's gotten your wand in a knot then?"

The question, posed by Sirius Black, caught James Potter by complete surprise, not because it was a strange question for Sirius to ask, but because he had been utterly lost in thought ever since he and Sirius left his house 10 minutes prior.

"Wha-?" He uttered, glancing at his best friend, who was walking right beside him down the dirt road leading to the Muggle village at the bottom of the hill the Potters lived on.

"You've been totally out of it ever since we left, clearly there's something wrong." Sirius clarified, lighting the cigarette he had wedged in between his lips. "Not to mention, you look like you're trying to set fire to the ground and it's sort of getting me worried."

James breathed out a humorless laugh, scuffing the ground with his shoes. "Don't worry, the ground is safe."

"But someone isn't." Sirius observed, watching James out of the corners of his eyes, as if worried he would explode at any moment.

"That's right."

"It's not me, is it?"

"No, it's just…" James sighed, stopping. He ran a hand through his hair nervously, then fit it back into his trouser pocket. "Do you remember my uncle, Jack?"

"Vaguely." Sirius answered sarcastically, raising his eyebrow.

"Right, sorry. Well I got a letter from him this morning." James explained, resuming his trek down the hill, Sirius right behind him. "I was really cautious at first because- well, you know what he's like."

"Go on."

"Right. I ended up opening it after about fifteen minutes of weighing the various pros and cons of doing so."

"What won you over in the end?"

"Curiosity."

"What else is there, right?"

"Exactly. So I opened it and-" James took a deep breath, and looked at his best friend head on. "It said: 'Hey nephew, you heard the news? Looks like I'm going to be a permanent fixture at your house from now on, courtesy of your father. Love, uncle Jack'." ' _Better start hiding that evil Black fuck under your bed, Potter_ ' James remembered the words he purposely left out. They worried James more than he would have liked to admit. He knew his uncle hated the Black family and all others which shared similar beliefs, but to go after Sirius? He shivered inconspicuously.

"Your father?" Sirius half whispered, half choked. He looked as if he had been punched in the face. So even without James telling him, he knew what having Jack around would mean for him. "Why would your father do this? And what is 'this' anyway?"

"That's what I was wondering too, so naturally, I went snooping in his office and…" James sighed and stopped, as they were nearing the village and he knew they wouldn't be able to talk about this openly there, surrounded by Muggles.

"And what?" Sirius enquired suspiciously, as he stopped next to James, the cigarette he was pinching in between his index and middle finger shrivelling, all but forgotten.

"He hired Aurors to guard our house at all times, and my uncle is one of them." James divulged, looking very nervous and pained.

"Why would he do that?"

"I think he's going back out into the field." James swallowed, staring out at the village in front of him with an empty look in his eyes. "He's been talking about it for weeks."

"He has?" Sirius asked, even more bemused than he had been initially.

"I mean, he's been talking about going for a business trip, but 'business trip' is quite obvious Fleamont Potter talk for: 'going out into the field'."

"I thought he retired?"

"Not officially. It seems he doesn't want to leave mum alone while he's gone but… Why him?" For a while they stood in silence, staring at the village, undoubtedly thinking of the same thing. The only thing that calmed James's nerves slightly was the thought that with any luck, they would be gone in a few weeks time, then Sirius wouldn't have to have any unpleasant run-ins with his uncle. But that, of course, didn't help his mother, who would be left alone with a dozen Aurors and Jack.

"Okay, enough about that, you're killing my good mood, man!" Sirius said, breaking James out of his thoughts. He had apparently snuffed out his cigarette when James wasn't paying attention, as it was nowhere in sight.

"Yeah, I have noticed you were in a particularly good mood today. What's up with that?" James asked as they continued to make their way into the village.

"Wow, 'what's up with that'? What, you don't like seeing me in a good mood?" Sirius exclaimed, feigning annoyance.

"No, of course not," James sighed with irritation. "I just-"

"Nope, it's fine, you don't want me to be happy then I won't be."

"Sirius-"

"Oh woe is me!" Sirius yelled, and because they were on the outskirts of the village already a few people looked about themselves in shock or irritation. "My life is a curse, I am in a constant downward spiral because this here man, my supposed best friend is a sick bastard." A few people started to listen with interest as Sirius shouted at the top of his lungs and James attempted to silence him. "Oh very sick indeed! He takes a sick pleasure in seeing me in pain. Oh yes, beautiful lady who looks about our age over there and seems to be trying to flirt with him from afar, sometimes he even beats- mfffff!"

"Okay Sirius, you can shut up now!" James laughed, covering his friends mouth with his hand and dragging him along behind him, shooting a smile at the girl who had in fact been trying to catch his eye.

"Tell your friends!" Sirius yelled, having managed to remove James's hand from his face momentarily.

Once they were a sufficient distance away, James released Sirius, who promptly fell against a shop wall, keeling over with laughter.

"Oh man," he uttered between spurts of laughter. "That was a good one, I should really do it more often."

James, who was trying to look disapproving but failing miserably, due to his own amusement, grabbed Sirius by the shoulder and steered him down the main road once more.

"C'mon," he said, pointing at a seemingly abandoned antique shop across the road. It was in fact a magic supplies shop, but, as the saying goes, _what Muggles don't know won't hurt them._ "Mrs. Jones will surely let us floo from there."

"Oh yeah, that reminds me," Sirius recalled with a somewhat accusatory tone, following James towards the establishment. "Where on Merlin's hairy backside are we going? And why did we have to go all the way to the village to floo, if we could have just done it from your house?"

"Well I… I didn't know where I wanted to go then." James admitted, looking somewhat sheepish. "But I feel like going to Muggle London sounds pretty good."

"Oh, I have a better idea!" Sirius exclaimed, hurrying towards the old shop. "Let's go to the Leaky Cauldron for a few Butterbeers!"

"Oh, no, I don't feel like going there, Sirius." James started to protest. "It's going to be so busy and-"

"Oh come on, Prongs!" Sirius insisted, pausing in his task of pushing the shop door open in order to look at James. "It will be fun! When have I ever been wrong about this kind of thing?"

"Only… Always?"

Sirius scowled, staring down at James (for from his position on the steps leading up to the shop he was taller than James). "That is besides the point. We are going to the Leaky Cauldron."

And with that, he turned around and entered the shop. James sighed and followed him. "Do I have any choice in the matter?"

"What do you think?" Sirius asked sarcastically over his shoulder as he walked to the counter, behind which a plump, cheerful lady stood.

"Right. Leaky Cauldron it is."

* * *

"I have gathered you all here today-"

"You haven't gathered us here, Black."

"I've been here since 11 am…"

"I'm only here because you dragged me here."

"You literally tried to pay me to sit with us."

"Besides, you couldn't possibly have known that we were all-"

"Oh come on!" Sirius complained, sliding down in his chair so that only his head was visible and pouted. "Can't you let me have it, just once? Please?"

Groaning, everybody at the table gave nods of approval.

"I just have one question before you do… whatever it is you want to do." Lily, who was one of the people crammed into a booth in the Leaky Cauldron with Sirius, informed, raising her index finger. "Why are you sitting like that?"

"Oh, it's surprisingly comfortable, you should try it!" Sirius recommended, and Lily, shrugging, slid down so that she too was mostly hidden underneath the table, her gaze level with Sirius's.

"Hi." She said, grinning at Sirius, who winked and smiled back at her.

"Hey there. Okay, now that that's all done and dusted, let's get on with it, shall we?" Sirius cleared his throat as everybody else groaned once more. "I have gathered you all here today, on this glorious day, to uphold our sacred tradition that we have celebrated every year since that fateful summer of 1974, when we all, out of mere coincidence appeared at the treasured meeting place of the Leaky Cauldron, on the magical date of the 31st of Aug-"

He was interrupted by a raspberry blown by Marlene, who was sitting between Mary and Remus, who in turn was sitting on the right of Sirius.

"Oh wow, real mature, Marlene-"

He was yet again interrupted, this time by jeers and boos from the whole group.

"Honestly, screw you guys." Sirius grumbled, taking a sip of his Butterbeer sulkily as his companions laughed. "All I wanted was to do something nice, but you guys always have to go and ruin it."

"Alright, Sirius, what did you want to say?" Alice asked from where she was squished between Mary and Lily in the corner, taking pity on the guy.

"Nope, the moment's passed, it's over."

Alice looked contemplative for a few seconds, then shrugged, smiling. "Alright. Guys, guess who's-"

"Alright, FINE, I'll tell you!" Sirius interjected, sitting up straight again and almost knocking James off the edge of the seat. "All I wanted to say is that I have gathered you here today- no, James, don't you dare interrupt me- to celebrate this new year together, as we have done for the past two years."

"That is surprisingly nice and thoughtful of you, Sirius." Mary noticed, raising her eyebrows in disbelief.

"Yeah, it's as Moony told me the Muggles say: 'Who you spend the day before the new year with, is who you'll be with the entire year'."

"This isn't exactly what that saying is about, but whatever, I'm surprised you were actually listening."

"I'm quite shocked myself, Moony."

"While all this is fine and dandy," Lily commented, her head still the only thing visible to all of them. "I am not at all okay with anything that ensures I will be spending all of next year, or any year, with Potter over there." She attempted to point at James, but with the awkward position she was in she ended up pointing at the ceiling of the booth.

"Lily, while I wholeheartedly agree that a year without Prongs would do us all some good," Sirius said, leaning over the table as if he were disclosing important information to her. James, glared at him. "I think we should let him off just this once. See, he has a complex."

"What kind of complex?" Lily asked cautiously, lifting an eyebrow. Sirius just winked and raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh my God, Sirius!" Lily cried, pushing a laughing Sirius away as she straightened up.

"I have to say Lily, you walked right into that one." Remus observed as he too laughed. Lily threw him a sulky look. "Oh come on, Lily, you've got to admit it was funny!"

"Look, even James is laughing, and it was at his expense!" Peter pointed out from Lily's right.

"Alright, fine, whatever, are we done with this?" Apparently they weren't, Lily's discomfort seeming to amuse them all very much. Even Mary, who had been in a terrible mood when Lily and Marlene had arrived, appeared to have cheered up considerably. When they all finally calmed down, Lily thought it wasn't possible for her to become a deeper shade of red if she tried.

"How do we manage to do it, anyway?" Mary wondered, finally taking the attention off Lily. All she got in response were confused looks. "I mean the whole meeting up every year before the school year starts thing?"

No coherent answer came Mary's way, instead, everyone shared baffled looks with each other, as if it just now occurred to them how unusual it was that they all managed to end up in the same place, at the same time every year, without a smidgen of planning beforehand.

"I always thought Sirius had some sort of tracking system." Marlene spoke up as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"Oh, I can totally see it! Alice agreed excitedly, jumping from her seat slightly. "Something that would show where every single one of us is every second of every day. Like a map."

Lily was the only one to notice the quick panicked look that passed between Sirius and James. Her eyes narrowed, but she decided not to comment on it. She could always ask Sirius about it later.

"Wouldn't that be a tad creepy though?" Mary rationalised, lifting her Butterbeer to her lips. "Having a map that shows what everyone is doing at all times?"

Lily had definitely not imagined it this time. A queer look had definitely passed between Sirius and James, and Lily would not be satisfied until she knew what it meant. "What are you two-"

"Alice!" Peter yelled suddenly, startling everyone. "What was that you were going to say earlier? 'Guess who-'?"

"Oh! Right!" Alice exclaimed enthusiastically, obviously not broken up about changing the subject at all. "Guess who's going to be Head Boy this year?"

"Who?!" Everyone but Alice chorused.

"Frank Longbottom!" Alice cried and then squealed with laughter at all their dumbfounded facial expressions. Clearly she had been dying to share the news with them for a while.

"Who?"

"Seriously?" James uttered, amazed. "Frank got Head Boy?!"

"That's great! I heard he was rather hoping to get the position!" Marlene grinned.

"Yeah, he told me so, but he was convinced that Evan Combes would get it instead." Lily chimed in, brimming with pride at her friend's success.

"Seriously, who is this?!" Sirius demanded again, glancing at everyone in the booth in turn, evidently not enjoying being left out of the loop.

"Pervy Pete, mate." James informed him.

"Oh! Pervy Pete!" Sirius repeated, understanding dawning on him. "Man, I love Pervy Pete, Pervy Pete is wild."

"Honestly, Sirius?" Remus sighed. "You seriously didn't know Pervy Pete's real name? I find that hard to believe."

"You know, I find that nickname personally offensive." Peter piped up, sounding very indignant. "Seeing as it's derived from my name and all."

"So are you saying you're not a pervert, Peter?" Sirius asked with wonder.

"Of course I'm not a pervert, what on earth-"

"Frank as Head Boy, huh?" Mary said, smiling softly. "You know, I think this year's going to be a good year. Or better than last year, at least."

"Yeah, I actually think it might be." Marlene agreed, nodding.

Lily watched as every single person in their booth nodded, and then, overwhelmed by the fact that this was the first time she felt truly happy in the entire duration of her summer, she raised her Butterbeer and shouted: "To the New Year!"

"To the New Year!" Everybody concurred, also lifting their Butterbeers and meeting Lily's over the middle of the table. While they did this, Lily's eyes met Marlene's, and because of this she knew that their next school year, would in fact be a good one, because no matter what, her best friend in the world would be experiencing it with her.

* * *

 **A/N:** Fun fact: Cormac's name was originally intended to be spelt with a K at the beginning, but I thought with a name like Cormac Gibson he already sounded douchey enough (no offense to any Cormac Gibsons out there, I am convinced you are not as douchey as this one).

I hope you don't mind how fluffy the ending was again, but I just felt it was necessary after the torture I put some of these characters through this chapter. Speaking of which, I know this chapter may seem like it dived into some of the storylines a bit too much, but I promise, they won't be explored again for quite I while, I just felt like I had to do something more in-depth than the last one.

Reviews are appreciated, and really I hope you enjoyed!


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